


Stage Frights

by orphan_account



Category: Phineas and Ferb
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-10
Updated: 2014-04-10
Packaged: 2018-01-18 21:53:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1444207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Perry is afraid to accept a reward from the O.W.C.A in front of an enormous audience. He realizes, though, that the most effective cure for stage fright is encouragement from a friend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stage Frights

The dim stage room in the O.W.C.A headquarters seemed to vibrate with the hushed voices of a hundred animals. Conversational quacks, meows, whistles, chirps, and barks filled the dense air. Feathers rustled, claws scraped against seat cushions, and ears flicked back and forth.

Perry watched the disorder from his place standing on the platform that rose above the sea of chairs. He could see––no, _feel_ ––the gazes of the curious agents. They stared at him intently, waiting for the ceremony to commence.

Perry swallowed, his throat feeling tight. Out of the corners of his eyes he noticed the ends of his whiskers twitching in time with his pulse. He wished he could sit down. He glanced sideways. A heavy burgundy curtain dangled from the rod that stretched over the stage. Perry briefly considered darting beneath the curtain and refusing to crawl out.

He discreetly observed the composures of the two other agents that stood beside him. Peter the Panda, who had made the trip from Seattle for this award ceremony, looked calm and even a bit drowsy. His beady eyes encircled by black patches were lifeless as marbles, giving little insight to his thoughts.

A cat, presumably Agent C, stood beside Peter. Perry was not acquainted with her, as she too was merely visiting from some small rural town.

Both Peter and Agent C seemed at ease, despite being before ninety-odd agents of which the majority were strangers. Perry wondered how Peter and Agent C could feel so comfortable.

A thick wave of heat oppressed him, and Perry felt a bit faint. Seemingly far off, the sound of drumming echoed in his head. He squeezed his paws into fists to distract himself, and when he relaxed, he found the pads of his fingers sticky with warm sweat. He casually ran both paws down his sides and over his hips, then folded them behind his back.

" _Skrree-eee!_ "

Every agent jolted and cowered down at the terrible, deafening shriek. When they looked up, they saw Major Monogram stepping forward to re-test the microphone. His brows lowered in concentration as he gingerly lifted the microphone from its stand. He began to talk, and his deep voice blew tremendously from the box speakers flanking the stage. The agents sitting on the front row hastily covered their ears.

In the sound booth, Carl waved apologetically and adjusted the volume of the microphone.

Major Monogram appeared thoroughly annoyed, but a trace of his tension disappeared as he spoke.

"All right, it's time to start our annual award ceremony. As you know, it is the duty of every agent in this room to protect his fellow citizens from common threats and dangers. Some of you face greater opposition than others, and we're here today to honor those that keep the country safe."

He reached into the inside pocket of his jacket to withdraw an index card. He squinted down at it.

"First of all, I'd like to present an award to Agent Panda. He's flown in from Seattle to be here with us today."

Peter complacently waddled forward into the light, his expression neutral.

"Agent Panda has dealt with countless odd jobs and has always made room in his schedule to help us out locally. He has the lowest failure rate I've seen in two years."

Major Monogram retained his frown, but the pride radiated from his voice. He slipped his hand into his pocket again, and this time pinched between his fingers a glinting medal. He held it up for all to see and covet. The tiny initials "O.W.C.A" were stamped into the gold crest.

Major Monogram bent down to fasten the medal on the black band of Peter's fedora. He twisted the medal to make sure it would not fall off, then stood. The audience began to cheer, raising paws and wings and hooves wildly.

"Now," Major Monogram said, and the din faded, "to honor our own Agent P. Come over here, Agent."

Perry's eyes widened. He ran his tongue over his teeth nervously, and took a step closer to Major Monogram. He knew that no one would realize he was terrified, but he received this certainty with no comfort.

Major Monogram's trim mustache lifted in what must have been a smile. "Agent P has never denied us a request. He's never asked for an extended _vacation_ ––" Major Monogram said this with emphasis––"and we can call him in at any hour. He's also on record as the agent who has undertaken the most assignments. We usually send him out daily."

He knelt beside Perry, and only then did he realize that Perry's small paws trembled with every shallow breath he took. Major Monogram had not expected his most poised agent to be fearful of crowds.

Just as he took Perry's medal from his pocket, the front doors of the enormous room opened. Almost instantly a fresh, cool breeze whisked away the stifling stale air. Perry's stiff shoulders drooped with relief, though he did not turn to see who had walked in.

With renewed courage, Perry stood straight, his posture perfect, almost soldier-like. He accepted the medal with gratitude, and as soon as Major Monogram turned away, Perry edged back in the shadows behind the curtains. He leaned against the wall, safe from the view of the other agents. He pressed his paw over his throbbing heart, listening to the muffled applause.

"Great job, Perry the Platypus! You did terrific--but without me, you wouldn't have gotten that award!"

Perry froze. That voice––though blended with and overpowered by chattering and clapping, was unmistakable.

Smiling, Perry looked down at his feet, his eyes half-closing. A wave of warmth and contentment filled him, and on impulse, he tiptoed to the corner of the stage. The applause waned and died, and Perry carefully eased his paw between the curtain and the wall. He pushed it away so a slit of light shone though, and he cautiously peeked out at the ocean of unfamiliar faces.

There, in the very back row, sat Doofenshmirtz.


End file.
